


An End To A Tale...

by PurpleStarsGoFar



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Alot of gore is against mobs, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Bad is Punz' dad, Bad is Sapnap's dad, Dream is a End Boy, DreamSMP - Freeform, Emotional neglect, End!Dream, Exploration, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Gay, George is a Overworld Boy, Georgenap, Getting to Know Each Other, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Injury, M/M, Magic, Mental Health Issues, Mild Gore, Minecraft, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nether!Sapnap, OT3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overworld!George, Pining, Poly, Polyamory, Romance, Running Away, Sapnap is a Nether Boy, Sapnotfound - Freeform, Slow Burn, The End (Minecraft), The Nether (Minecraft), The Overworld (Minecraft), Travel, Video Game Mechanics, Violence, dadboyhalo, dream team, dreamnap, dreamnotfound, dreamnotnap, magic book, poly dream team, punz and sapnap are brothers, they're trying their best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29158401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleStarsGoFar/pseuds/PurpleStarsGoFar
Summary: George is a part of The Overworld,Sapnap is a part of The Nether,And Dream is a part of The End.They've lived in these places since they were born, and even if they don't like certain things about it...It's not like there's anything else out there, is it?---Aka the AU I made on a whim where the Dream Team are all from the Overworld, the End, and the Nether respectively, and they find a book that allows them to talk to eachother through dimensions.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 386





	1. The Overworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that this chapter is a bit short, I'm planning on making the first few around 900-1,000 words atleast, and then after that I'll try and make them a bit longer!

_Important._

George was _undeniably_ important. That came with the role he had been given since birth. Being a part of the Overworld was integral to the balance of the reality, and nobody was allowed to forget that fact.

At times it was annoying for him, having to do all of this work constantly. Whether it be active participation in biome creation or simply studying, he felt like he had no time to do what he wanted.

And he blamed himself for this, internalizing thoughts of self-hatred. Nobody else seemed to have a problem, _so why did he?_ Maybe it was because he wasn't just a part of the Overworld, and instead a mixture of a regular human and the Overworld? His brain would ponder the question at least five times each day, no matter what he was doing.

Waking up and getting dressed? He thought about it. Eating? He thought about it. Reading books because he had been told to study a topic? He _ESPECIALLY_ thought about it there.

It was irritating. The thought had grown so common in the young man's skull, and he wanted an answer to it; an answer to _why_ he wanted more. The Overworld was beautiful and important, yes, of course! But he wanted _more_ for himself! For his life, for his _happiness._

He had seen his elders die doing this job, never stepping out of line to possibly explore just a _little_ more of their own existence, and George found it sad, a lifetime of repetition, but he _also_ knew nothing else. The most he had was tales told by the books that the Overworld Archives had only kept because they were possible inspirations, other than that, they regarded it as fiction.

George didn't think that the stories were exactly true, of course not! He had no proof of them being so. But he couldn't fathom pure fiction being written in such a way that felt so, _so_ accurate. Someone would have _had_ to experience these things, someone couldn't describe this stuff _so well_ without having been there themself, it had to be _impossible._

But that doesn't actually mean anything. It's just a hunch, and if you stretched it a bit, maybe even a theory, but nothing more.

So George had nothing to go on.

He sighed, leaning back in the chair he sat on and away from the table. _He couldn't focus any longer!_ Every new sentence he read seemed like _pure **void,**_ it wouldn't stick in his memory. George knew that this meant he should probably take a break, but he had already taken one earlier, asking for another would probably make him seem lazy to the people above him. The best he could do was fake his reading, but even that was stressful at this point.

He was _**SO**_ bored, it wasn't even funny.

He could make an excuse to leave, but he's done that before, they'll probably know that he's just looking for a way to get out of there. Out of _everything_ he knows, one thing is constant, he can't break the _'rules'._

_Even if they make **no** fucking sense and are **stupid.**_

The warm sunlight coming through the window onto his table and himself was a small bit of comfort. It made him feel nice and it was something to focus on other than the book placed in front of him and the library around him. It wasn't anything extraordinary, just a small thing, but it was something that he could use right now.

When he was eventually allowed out, it was an odd mixture of relief and irritation. With him having sat there so long, he'd gotten comfortable in the sun's heat, falling into a half-awake half-asleep state that he honestly didn't want to leave.

But he did, ready to go throughout his day. Keyword, _ready,_ not _happy._ He would rather not go through the rest of his day and it showed.

The effort he gave his work was bare-minimum at best, he constantly gave up on things halfway through, sat doing nothing whenever possible, or he was having an attention span that was arguably worse than a squirrel's. Despite it all, he got through the day and was finally allowed to return to his resting quarters.

The problem with that is he had gotten to the point that he was so _tired_ that he was awake. _It couldn't get worse for him, even if it tried._

So he ended up changing into his pajamas, not even bothering to wear the top and just putting on the soft, fluffy pants that he had gotten _slightly_ too large on purpose, just for the extra comfort.

He then put his royal blue cloak on its stand, examining its placement and shuffling it around just a bit. He had nothing to do for the rest of the night, so his brain decided that the best source of entertainment would be perfecting something that he would ruin just the next morning.

" _Jeez, I'm losing my mind,_ " George quietly let out a breath, trying to lighten the mood that his lonely room held.

He gave up on the cloak, throwing himself onto his bed and groaning loudly into the pillow. He wasn't exactly _that_ frustrated, and it felt a little stereotypical, but he wanted _something_ to do until his exhaustion finally returned.

He had no intentions of waking up tomorrow morning. Of course, he's not dying, but he sure as hell is mentally _done_ with doing the same stuff over and over again.

He knows that he should be 'grateful' for this position, but the thing is, he didn't even _ASK_ for it. He just wants anything _OTHER_ than this life, this stupid, messy, life of _'do this',_ and, _'do that'._

He wanted _excitement!_ He wanted to go outside and explore the biomes that they're _'so proud'_ of making for the other creatures to live in! He wanted **_more!_**

He was finally getting tired again, and he was losing the capacity to have a single coherent thought run through his brain.

_So, he closed his eyes..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna make sure you all know that I might not update this fic regularly! So don't be worried if there's a period of time where nothing is updated! Make sure to take care of yourself, okay!?


	2. The Nether

He was slightly upset at not being able to participate this week, sure, but he was still happy to watch the fights!

It was what some might call a tradition, or possibly a weekly holiday akin to that of what friday feels like for kids at school. No matter what you called it though, it was something all parts of the Nether came together to participate in!

A big fight in a pit. No rules. No quits until the event ends. If you die down there, that's _your_ fault!

It had become an event for them some hundred years after the Nether had been sealed away from the Overworld and the End, or so Sapnap had been told.

The Nether was blocked away, sealed behind a portal that none of them could light, lest they step through it and immediately get attacked. They couldn't even add anything more to the Nether, seeing as their objects for creation had been left in the long lost Realm Archives, leaving them to become what some could consider the 'normal' species of the Nether, a mixture of lava and flame in a humanoid form.

Sapnap had been looked down on for this fact, seeing as he wasn't entirely a part of the Nether due to his family lineage having the blood of a 'simple human' mixed into it. But he didn't take any of that sitting down, no, _no, **no.**_ He was taught one thing; _you don't take shit from **ANYONE** unless they can fight you and win._

So he fought anyone that tried to talk shit about him, if they won, he'd back down temporarily until he was stronger than them. If they lost right off the bat, well, they now knew to shut the FUCK up!

Oddly enough, fighting was the main language of the Nether. You hate someone? You fight them. You like being around someone? You fight them. You _love_ someone? You fight them.

That's just how it works! If you aren't fighting, you're caring for or farming mobs, if you _aren't_ caring for or farming mobs, you're collecting resources to create things with, if you _aren't_ collecting resources to create things with, you're cooking, and if you _aren't_ cooking, then you're just simply fucking around with lava and fire.

It's all Sapnap knows, and he wouldn't change it for the world! _At least he wouldn't change it most of the time._

One round was over before he even knew it, and the next round was already starting.

" ** _ROUND TWO! ROUND TWO! ROUND TWO!_** " The crowd around him shouted, punching their fists into the air and jumping just enough that it effected the stability of his surroundings.

He joined in, feeling at home in the sea of loud noises and the ground's vibrations under his feet. He momentarily saw what seemed to be a child in the pit, but shook away the stress that spiked in him.

' _I don't have to care about any life other than my own,_ ' Sapnap reminded himself mentally, ' _ **I** am the most valuable asset to **myself.**_ '

And so he continued, watching the fight until it sadly ended. Then he and the crowd began to leave, going out to the front of the arena. Some left immediately while others stayed to get a few 'souvenirs'. Sapnap was only staying to make sure that one of his roomies and his brother got out alive. Bad would _kill_ him if they didn't get home, and he would absolutely kill **_ALL_** of them if he knew that they even participated **_IN_** the fight.

Bad, ( _bless his embers,)_ was somehow the exception to the rules of the Nether. He didn't initiate fights, he tried his best to be kind to others no matter what, and the only times Bad _did_ fight was when he saw others in danger, and Bad was **_EXTREMELY_** strong, so you can guess how those go.

" _SAPNAP!!!! EYYYY!!!!!!_ "

Sapnap turned to the voice and smiled, Tommy returned the expression, seeming unphased by his own bloody nose and arm in a sling. Punz followed close behind him with a hand on Tommy's upper back to help safely lead the teenager to Sapnap. Punz was extremely more beaten up, _(likely because he was protecting Tommy while they were down there.)_

"So, how was it!?" Sapnap asked Tommy, standing up from the stem he was sitting on.

"IT WAS **_FUCKING_** POGGERS!!!!" Tommy responded before turning to Punz with excitement, "I did good for my first pit fight, _yeah?!_ "

"You did okay, kid," Punz rolled his eyes and gave Tommy a small smile.

" _YOOOOOOO!!!!_ PUNZ SUPPORT!!!"

Sapnap laughed a bit at the other's hyperactivity before turning to look in the direction of their home. "We should get back before Bad gets sus-"

" _-Yeah,_ you should," a monotone voice startled Sapnap as he was shoved down onto the netherrack beneath him.

" _T-Techno!?_ " Tommy turned to the figure that had shoved Sapnap, "When did you get here?! I-I thought you were takin' a fuckin' break this week!"

"I am. But when you three woke up early, I knew that something was off," Techno plainly stated as he went to help Sapnap up, "You and Tommy leaving by yourselves is plain suspicious. Adding on Punz, you would _probably_ need someone that is pretty responsible just in case you did get into deep crap. That along with the fact that it was a _Pit Day_ was easy to figure out."

"Oh," Sapnap cringed as he carefully pulled himself up with Techno's help and groaned at the pain in his knees, " _Shit-_ "

"Don't worry about it," Techno pulled out a basket filled with a mixture of crimson fungi and warped fungi, "I got you an alibi!"

" ** _LET'S GO TECHNOBLADE!!!_** " Tommy went to hug his older brother but was held back by Punz.

"Your arm is gonna hurt if you do that."

Tommy squinted at Punz dramatically. "Go baby _YOUR_ brother, this one is _mine,_ dickhead!"

"You're gonna regret it."

"Don't do it, Tommy," Sapnap added, "I know from _experience_ how it feels. Plus we have to get back quickly. Bad shouldn't be home yet, right, Tech?"

" _Doooon't call me thaaaattt,_ " Technoblade sighed as he stepped away from Sapnap, "But you're right, _especially_ with your messed up knees."

"We can't bask in my glory for a moment or two!?" Tommy pouted.

"No, unless you want to bask in the _'glory'_ of Badboyhalo telling us how _disappointed_ he is," Punz said sarcastically, hitting the younger on the top of his head lightly.

" ** _Fineeeee,_** " Tommy stomped his foot down on the netherrack with a pout.


	3. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW(?)// Violence Towards/Death of mobs that is kinda descriptive? Its not an insane amount, but I dont want anyone to get uncomfortable and not have a warning, so this is just in case! Please remember to take care of yourself!

It's his job.

It's his job. _It's his job. **It's his job. It's his job.**_

' _Endermen hold the potential to hurt parts of the End. This is helping. This is helping._ '

That's what he kept telling himself as he sliced through the tall, dark forms in front of him. Dream didn't show many signs of distress on the outside, but he was absolutely was a mess on the inside.

He had done this for so long and it still unnerved him. He was one of the many that had been assigned the job of lowering the population of mobs to what was considered a 'safe' amount, him being assigned to endermen specifically.

Compared to the other mobs, most might see that as a simple task. But for Dream, it was not.

They were peaceful creatures for the most part, and that is one of the reasons that made him feel bad for having to attack them. Maybe if that was the only thing he had to do he'd deal with it better, _but it didn't stop there._

He had to harvest the ender pearls out of their corpses. He was forced to kill them, then dissect their body, reach in, and pull out the pearl.

He did everything he could to not focus on the visuals and sounds, just getting the pearls and putting them in his bag. Then he could fly off to eat and sleep. Apparently he was the only person who saw the wrong in it, _(or he at least felt like that.)_

He doesn't see endermen like the others. They aren't just another animal like an endermite, they were just as alive as a human or a part of the End.

He's seen them communicate with each other, seen them express emotion. They care and they feel, and they deserve to live peacefully, _do they not?_ If none of them looked endermen in the eyes they could coexist, couldn't they? It's not impossible!

" _Probably is,_ " Dream murmured sadly in response to his thoughts before standing up.

Both of his hands were covered in a goopy purple and his clothes were also stained with splotches of it. In one of his hands, he held the final pearl he would have to get for at least two weeks. A frown splayed across his face and his eyes screamed that he was tired and annoyed.

He sighed, reaching behind himself and gently placing the pearl into the bag before zipping it up. He grabbed onto the bag's straps and steadied himself before he let his leathery wings open and shot himself upwards into the dark void.

He turned his head in the direction of the End's main commune and focused on it, making sure to find a place that was clear of others to land on. Once he had found a suitable target, he bolted towards it. He squinted his eyes to shield them from the air that pushed against him, but he couldn't close his eyes just in case an unexpected obstacle found itself in his path.

He was closer now, he could land, he could eat, and he could go home. Luckily he wouldn't have to do this again for a while and he would be able to just chill and recuperate. Just a bit longer, now, an-

" _Dreeeeeaaaammmm!~_ "

Dream lost his focus and threw himself face first into the flat purpur roof that he had been aiming for. He immediately shot his head up and held his nose that was now aching in pain.

"Oh, _shit,_ " a second voice said, "I told you, you _should_ have waited."

"What the _HELL_ is wrong with you!?" He turned to the original voice.

Wilbur giggled and smiled in response, slightly tilting his head to the side and exaggerating his accent. "Just wanted to see 'ow you were doin' Bruv!"

" _I was around a five out of ten before you showed up, now I'm a two._ "

"Shit, you're bleeding!" Schlatt announced, holding his chin as if he was in deep thought, "We 'outta get that checked out sooner or later!"

" _Preferably later?~_ " Wilbur joked.

"Wilbur, ya' gave the man a broken nose, chill out," Schlatt glanced at the other before walking up to Dream, holding his hand out, "Plus, Dude's got human in him, he ain't as durable as _u-_ "

"You _LITERALLY_ broke a wing falling off of your _OWN_ bed once!" Dream retorted, pulling himself up with Schlatt's help.

"I'm not _MADE_ for flight! I'm made for _research and experiments!_ " Schlatt mumbled with slight offense, "You and Wilbur are made to attack shit!"

"I'm _not_ made to attack shit!" Wilbur walked over to the other two, "I'm made to _socialize!_ "

"Blah, blah, blah, _'I was born to do this, I was born to do that!'_ Can we **_JUST_** have me exchange these pearls and then go eat?!" Dream snapped before his head filled with guilt, " _Sorry-_ "

"No, it's fine, Dream!" Wilbur smiled kindly at the other, dropping his mocking tone.

"You _are_ correct," Schlatt put his hands into the pockets of his suit's pants, "Wilbur and me have been doing shit-all all day, so we might as well do _something!_ "

" _Good-_ "


	4. Elorica Library

This was likely a mistake, something he would regret later on.

But for now, it's a breath of fresh air, _literally._

George had snuck out of his bedroom window and scaled down the wall of old and mossy blue bricks. He then snuck across the Archive's land and outside of it's walls, silently traveling into the deep lush of the forest that surrounded the building until he felt safe enough to breathe regularly.

He had never really been outside before. Of course he'd been _outside,_ but never without another person watching him and guiding him to go to a specific area and do a specific thing. This time he had freedom.

' _They created this?_ ' He thought to himself, ' _We?- We created this?-_ '

He slowly stepped forward, taking it all in. It was times like this that he was extra annoyed by his colorblindness. The land around him was likely much more pretty than he could ever know, nonetheless, he still found it beautiful.

He knew that he couldn't stay here forever, so he sped up, hoping that maybe he could find something even more interesting than plants before he had to go back.

A part of his head told him to go back, scared of what would happen if he was caught, but he couldn't quit! He was _George!_ He was... _uh_ , good, at like, _everything-_

Yeah, he's good at everything as long as he _WANTS_ to be!

George's eyes widened as he saw forest end and a town just a bit farther away begin.

" _Holy crap,_ " George felt a smile pull at his lips.

He wanted to immediately run to it and explore every nook and cranny, unfortunately his social anxiety was pulling at him to _not_ do that exact thing.

But he was gonna do it no matter what. He looked down at his outfit and his brows furrowed, he'd surely get recognized if he was wearing his regular clothes. But he had nothing else to wear. He would totally have to improvise.

"Think, think, think," George began chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to come up with some form of 'disguise'.

Most of his problem was the cloak, the rest of the outfit was pretty regular, at least in his opinion. White shirt, dark blue pants, dark brown boots, dark brown gloves. The gold and silver bracelets accented by gems might be suspicious though, his earring too.

In the wrong setting, he could be seen as an outsider, a pompous prick, or possibly an easy target for theft. He has a bag on him, maybe he could put them in there for the time being? It would probably be uncomfortable to be seen without the cloak on, but it's either that or miss out on this all.

_And he was NOT going to miss out on life._

He pulled the cloak off and took his bag off alongside it. He shifted his shoulder around a bit to unstiffen himself after taking the strap of the bag off of his shoulder. He then set it on the ground and put the cloak in it. He took out his single earring and momentarily lost his train of thought, staring into the slightly transparent blue before he placed it on top of the cloak, following it up with the various bracelets that he normally wore.

George then folded a part of the cloak over the jewelry, obscuring them from view before closing the bag and returning it to his shoulder. He readied himself before turning to look at the town, _it seemed so lively..._ The Archives were lively, yes, but it always had something _off_ about it in energy.

The town looked carefree, families walking up and down sidewalks, vendors' stands here and there, buildings having flowers growing under their windowsills. He could hear snippets of conversations and laughter. George was happy that he had gone out on a sunny day, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.

He walked forward, feeling the cool wind hit his face stronger now that the trees weren't in the way. Fucking hell, he was scared, but fucking hell, he was ALSO excited!

He sped up, making sure that his movements seemed at least a little casual until he got to one of the sidewalks and stopped. He gripped onto the strap of his bag and rubbed his thumbs against the leather as he looked around.

_People._

He was surrounded by people. Plain old creatures. None of them knew what he did, none of them were parts of the Overworld, they just live in it. _These were the people that he did his work for..._

They were everywhere! And he had no idea what they were really doing! Just... _walking?_ Surely they were walking _somewhere!_ But _where_ were they walking? _He wanted to go too!_ What were those people doing over there!? What were those _other_ people doing over there?!

He began to walk down the sidewalk, George wanted to examine _everything! He wanted to learn how everything worked and go everywhere an-_

**_Library._ **

An _uncensored_ _library!_ Sure, the building didn't look too large from where he was standing, but that doesn't matter! There was literature he had never seen before in there, something _new,_ something _interesting,_ more than work! _There was **life** in there!_

He rushed across the stone road, avoiding others to the best of his ability to stop himself from accidentally running into anyone. George then stopped in front of the building, staring up at the large sign.

' _Elorica Library._ '

"You okay?"

George froze and looked at the person that had spoken to him. A man slightly taller than himself in a purple sweater smiled at him in response. George blushed in embarrassment, unable to come up with a coherent answer to give the other.

" _Are..._ are you not from around here?"

George gave a small nod.

"Do you like libraries, perhaps?" He approached George and looked up to the building's sign himself.

" _I-I've only seen one other one aside from this one before,_ " George mumbled, returning his gaze to it as well.

"You've only seen _one?..._ " The other said in confusion, "Well, do you want to step inside?"

"Holy shit, yeah!" George looked the other straight in the eyes, "C-can I?"

"I mean as long as you don't cause a mess, sure! We're open to anyone as long as we aren't _LITERALLY_ closed!" He grinned happily, "Today's been pretty slow, but we're used to that on days like these! I'm Karl, by the way! Karl Jacobs!"

He held his hand out to George, an obvious sign of a handshake. Karl's head tilted slightly, making his hair fall out of its half-neat style and become a bit more messy. George hesitated, but took his hand and lightly shook it.

"George! M-my name is _George!_ "

" _Nice!_ " Karl said as he let go of George's hand, the man walked over to the door of the library and opened it, ringing the small bell that alerts those inside to a newcomer's entrance, " _Well,_ step on in!"

George did as told, sliding by Karl and entering the library. He was immediately met with the scent of cinnamon and the feeling of subtle warmth. The decor was lovely! More than just carved wood like he was used to, there were paintings on the walls, themed areas, and flowers spread around in vases.

 _Speaking of the flowers,_ there was another man wearing a black dress shirt and white waist apron walking around. He held a semi-transparent dark blue watering can, specks of light yellow decorated its shape. He didn't look quite happy, but he also didn't look upset either.

"Quackity!!!" Karl's posture lifted as he began waving at the other, " _Look!_ A new person!"

"That's nice, Karl," Quackity smiled at him and gave him a thumbs-up before he turned to George, "And how's _your_ day goin'?"

"Oh! Well, _good?_ I _suppose?_ "

"Mans **_HESITATING!_** " Quackity laughed and snapped with his free hand's fingers, the watering can he had been holding poofed into nonexistence, making George stare in confusion at where it used to be.

"Oh, _yeah..._ Quackity does that sometimes! I don't know _HOW_ though!" Karl hummed.

A pair of orange and green eyes looked at George, even though he couldn't exactly notice the colors properly himself, he could notice that they were absolutely unnaturally bright.

' _Just like mine..._ '

He'd looked in the mirror before, he'd looked at other parts of the Overworld. They have bright eyes. Why does a hu- _well-_ why does a **_hybrid_** have those eyes?

"Eyo, nice manners! My eyes are literally up here where you're looking! Good job!" Quackity grinned before lifting himself up with two moderately small yellow wings and hovering closer to the two of them. Quackity then slung an arm up onto George's shoulders, "You got any specific books that you're lookin' for?"

"George apparently has only seen _one_ library other than this one!" Karl blurted.

"H-he _fuckin'-_ He _what???_ " Quackity looked up to Karl in disbelief.

"He's not lying, sooooo," George let out an uncomfortable breath.

"Holy _fucking_ shit!" Quackity stared at the ground a second before sighing, " _Whatever,_ it's fine. W-what's your favorite genre?"

"Uh, I _dunno?_ " George responded, "Where I came from we basically only had like, shotty history and biology and just a whole lot of nerd stuff..."

"Bro, you need to spice up your life, _Jeez._ "

" _I **know,** trust me._"

"Maybe you'd like some fantasy books!" Karl gasped out loud before rushing off.

"Well then," Quackity stated as they both watched the other swiftly leave, "you _probably_ like fantasy books! Karl has like a sixth sense or some bullshit when it comes to book recommendations for **_literally_** anyone, so I'd trust his judgment."

" _Oh!-_ Okay then, that's good to hear!"

"Yeah, let's get you a card here so you can check out while he's gone, speed up the process and all that shit," Quackity began walking to the front counter.

"Oh! Uh, do you _know_ how long I'll be able to keep them?" George asked.

"Not yet!" Quackity replied as he went behind the counter, "But you can always renew 'em! Obviously, you'll get in trouble if it's not on time, but we normally give the first-timers a second chance!"

"Oh, alright!" George smiled, "T-thank you for this! I-I can't really go into _specifics_ but this is like, _amazing_ for me! I'll try my best get them back RIGHT on time!"

"That's good to hear!" Quackity pulled out a pen and leaned on the counter, he glanced down to the paper in front of him and then up to George, "Now, _you got a full name?-_ "


	5. Casting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Semi(?) graphic description of a really bad wound occuring, also kinda describes the pain of the healing process a little bit?
> 
> I'm not exactly sure if its enough for a trigger warning bc I personally dont get very unsettled by many things like gore/injuries most of the time, but I know some people do, so please take care of yourselves! :]

Sapnap didn't exactly like to read or write, he'd much rather spend his time doing things that took more physical energy.

But he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter this time. His knees that had been weaker lately had finally overheated and in turn, they tore open. If it was a small tear he and the others would have been able to ignore it somewhat easily, unfortunately it wasn't a small tear. His knees had burst under his own weight, a mixture of blood and lava shooting out of the ripped skin as he fell to the floor.

And that's when it was decided that he _had_ to recast his legs, even if he **_hates_** that process.

The thing is with casting, _especially_ if it's your **_legs._** You _cannot_ move the part of the body that is being casted the _**ENTIRE**_ time. You have to keep your limbs still until they dissolve into the pool of lava that they're in, and then you have to wait until enough blood mixes with the lava, and _THEN_ you have to wait for the lava to rebuild the shape of the body part, _AND **THEN**_ you have to let blackstone form and cover the limb, **_THEN_** you have to wait until the stone is solidified!

After that, your friends and/or family have to help you out of the lava and bring you back home! Only for you to have to wait _even longer!_ This time it can be _slightly_ more comfortable, but you also have to sit with a very fragile coat of rock covering your body until it's done cooling. Then, after _allllllllll_ of that shit, you have to carefully break open the shell of stone and you **_FINALLY_** have a new and healthy limb!

Sapnap hates this process with every ember in his body, and now that he is doing it, all he had was this stupid book to doodle in.

He was given a piece of warped stem that was carved into the shape of a pencil, along with it was a homemade mixture of crushed and mashed up crimson fungus, crimson nylium, and ghast tears. This mixture formed a type of ink for him to use to write and draw on the blank pages with.

The ink didn't exactly look humane. The red hue making it nearly seem like actual blood instead of what it truly was, but Sapnap didn't care. He was bored, casting, and alone.

He groaned before scribbling down a nonsensical shape, not getting any satisfaction from it, he made another. He continued, mixtures of scribbles were soon accompanied by swear words and simple ' _AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!_ 's, making the page a clustered mess. Certain places where he had accidentally touched the ink had smeared, only increasing the morbid look of it all.

He then stiffened. As on the next page, a black small cursive word began scrawling itself out onto the paper, a bluish glow shining around the letters.

' _What the fuck._ '

Sapnap felt his emberbeat increase to the point he could hear it before he shakily dipped the pencil back into the ink again.

' _What the fuck do you mean what the fuck?_ '

' _You can talk???_ '

' _Well duh._ '

No, this was fucking **_confusing._**

The book was talking to him, that shit isn't normal. He may not open many books but that's not normal and _knows_ it! He's dumb but he's _**ABSOLUTELY**_ not stupid!

' _What the fuck are you?_'

' _I'm George???_ '

' _What do you mean? Are you like? The fucking book? Are you a book?_'

' _No, I was going to write in the journal that this guy gave me as a little gift along with my library books and then I saw a murderer's mental breakdown begin to write itself on the first page._ '

' _What the fuck??????_ '

Sapnap stared at the page in front of him, confused as all hell. Was he daydreaming again? He's fallen too deep into his own imagination before, was this the same?

' _A-are you okay?_ '

' _I'm,_ ' Sapnap paused, cringing as he finally felt his lower legs begin to burn away, ' _No? Where the hell are you?_'

' _The Overworld Archives._ '

" _The **what?**_ "

Sapnap froze. The Overworld. How did it get here? What does it want? Is Sapnap in trouble? Are they watching him? Are they going to finish the job they started years ago?

But simultaneously, _what if they don't know? Anything is possible if you think about it._

' _Why are you here then?_ '

' _What do you mean? I don't know where you're speaking of?_ '

' _I'm in the Nether, dipshit,_ ' no response, only tense silence. Sapnap didn't fucking take silence, ' _Do you know what that fucking is?_ '

' _Yes, yes. I'm sorry. I just didn't know that it was real._ '

' _The fuck do you mean you didn't know it was real!?_ '

Sapnap's handwriting became messier than before as he tried his hardest to not go off on this ' _George_ ' character. How do you **_NOT_** know that the Nether is _real?! **ESPECIALLY**_ if you're the person that locked everything in it **_AWAY!_** You're either stupid or malicious, no in-between.

' _The books here speak of it like fiction. Like... it's a horror land. Where the worst people reside. It's constantly on fire, there's constant agony. Giant structures of bone and buildings of past nations can be found. It's said to be constant pain._ '

He frowned, labored breath leaving his mouth as he stared at the text.

That's not true. That's not **_fucking_** true. If you want to talk shit about a place you should focus on the **_actual_** bad parts. Like the fucking children who commonly _**die**_ in unnecessary fights! Not the fucking _**AGONY**_ there isn't fucking _**AGONY**_ that's the _**PROBLEM!**_

Nobody will **_FOCUS_** on the bad parts of life, they will only focus on entertaining _themselves_ because people grow up here with **_one fucking_** motto; _I don't have to care about any life other than my own, I am the most valuable asset to myself._

You're **_RAISED_** to be selfish and be fucking happy about it, you can **_KEEP_** friends but if they stab you in the back can you be _mad?_ _NO! **BECAUSE THEY THINK IT'S RIGHT!**_

 ** _NOBODY_** is suffering from their actions and they _**SHOULD**_ be! They should _**FOCUS**_ on the negative for **_ONCE!_ **Instead of beating the shit out of things to feel _HAPPY!_ _HAPPY!_ _**HAPPY!**_

' _Well, it's hot here, yeah, but it's not agony? Sorry to say it, but someone fucking lied to you, DIPSHIT,_ ' he censored most of what he wanted to say.

' _Then what is it actually?_ '

Sapnap immediately felt his stress increase, conflicting feelings swarmed his head as he put the pencil to paper.

' _It's Hell. Not bad. But not good._ '

' _Morality?_ '

' _Exists and doesn't exist._ '

' _How does it look there?..._ '

' _Hell, kinda. Some of what you were told is right. Some is wrong. There are mushrooms, and fire, and lava, and gold-_ '

' _And gold?!_ '

' _Yeah. It's the most common type of ore we have here. We build with it, trade with it, decorate with it, trade with it again._ '

' _That's so cool!_ ' The cursive wrote, ' _Who are you? What are you?_ '

' _I'm a part of the Nether. My name is Sapnap but I'd rather not talk to someone who is a part of a place that banished us._ '

' _That what?_ '

Sapnap tried to calm himself.

' _I'm busy. I'll finish this late-_ '

' _No, wait! Please?_ '

Sapnap let out an annoyed yell and hit his head on the ground. He dipped the pencil again, waiting for George to continue.

' _I'm sure we could talk more, yes? Maybe later if you're available? I REALLY REALLY wanna know more!_ '

What else was there to know? George was a part of a group that pushed them away! Simple as that! There's no conversations to have!

' _What do you want to know?_ '

' _What is life like? What do you do? How is education? How is entertainment? What are common practices? Is that a lot? I'm sorry._ '

Sapnap pushed his anger aside. He was barely done with the casting process, this was the only activity he had other than wallowing in self-pity, he shouldn't squander it.

' _Life is fun! You get to fight a lot of people and cook lots of food! But sometimes the fighting isn't good and it's upsetting and nobody WANTS to realize it. Education is as simple as throwing a kid at a danger and hoping they live. Entertainment is also fighting. We cook a lot as I said, we try and not kill too many hoglins, but they give us pork, so its easy food._ '

' _That's so different..._ '

' _It is?_ '

' _Yeah! I'm stuck in work and academia all the time! There's no free time to do anything._ '

' _Sucks for you._ '

' _Yeah, it does..._ '

The feeling of shifting lava turned off his ability to think for a split second. The area where his legs and the lava connected suddenly felt numb as blood and lava poured out of the wounds as a goopy slop.

The slop then swirled in the pool and all Sapnap could do was tear up in response.

This was the worst part of casting, losing your ability to speak or fully move. Sometimes it was for a second, sometimes it was for an hour. All you could do was wait. Your uncomfortable situation was sure to end soon, but you are not allowed to know exactly when.

It wasn't super painful, per say. Instead, it felt like an odd mix of the feeling of a subtle cramp and pins and needles. He had the potential to hurt if he moved in a way the healing process didn't like, but otherwise, it was just uncomfortable to the point of endless annoyance.

' _I'd like to go there sometime._ '

He slowly lifted his hand to the ink before going to the book again.

' _Why? It's shitty._ '

' _It's different._ '

' _You should want the best for yourself._ '

' _What if the best for myself is exploring new things?_ '

' _You're unlucky then._ '

Their conversation went on like this for quite a long time until Sapnap had finally been let out of the pool of lava. Sharp clumps of jagged blackstone made up Sapnap's legs from his upper knees down to his feet, leaving him unable to walk, so Punz and Techno carried him home and set him on his bed.

Once he had been able to eat and the others left the area, he returned to look at the book's pages. Scribbles in red and black filled three of the pages so far, documenting his conversation with George.

Sapnap probably messed up now that he looks back on the messages. He was unnecessarily harsh to the other person, shutting down George's happiness and excitement for relatively no reason. He'd been in that position before, it doesn't feel good and you can obsess over it for so, so long.

_He had to apologize..._

_But how?..._

' _Hey, uh, I'm not good at apologies, but, I'm sorry, George. I shouldn't have been so rude to you. I don't understand why I said what I said, today just hasn't been great, I guess. If you want to talk again sometime, I'm down! - Sapnap_ '

' _I'd love that! I gotta rest now, so I'll see you later! PS; I like signing off these things, it's fun! - George_ '


	6. Made To Be

The End is a place where the perfect succeed.

Or, it _used_ to be, it kind of _is?_ They succeeded, and that is a majority of the problem.

Succeeding is _great_ _,_ but it's exactly the problem alot of the End has run into. The parts have succeeded in a majority of their quests to the point that the 'perfect' people don't have to do much anymore. What they do now is either busywork, sure to be automated in the near future, or if you're lucky, it's a job that automation cannot do.

If Dream hadn't met Schlatt and Wilbur he wouldn't know this, a majority of the population _doesn't_ know about it. They see the work that is occasionally given to them as needed, as important, as a way to help their _little_ _perfectionist_ _society._ With the position that Schlatt and Wilbur have, they are a part of the very few people that are supposed to _help_ with this issue, find more jobs, create more jobs, _don't let the people realize that almost everyone has lost what makes them special, because that is **dangerous.**_

And as his friend, they told him. _(At least they told him as a friend while they were having a mental breakdown OVER it.)_

Dream doesn't blame them. They were made to do this job, and a part of the job is keeping some things secret. Hell, Dream occasionally helps them figure out how to hide things on his own free time.

For three ' _perfect_ ' people, it was stressful to _be_ perfect, _and that is where Schlatt's brother comes in._

He is, by their society's definition. _Imperfect._

Charlie had once been just Schlatt's brother. Both of them had been made to help with research and experiments. Charlie was more of a test subject, while Schlatt was more of an observer.

One day, according to each brother, an experiment went wrong. Leaving Charlie with eyes of pure glowing purple and the tendency to puke up masses of slime with the same characteristics.

And so he was taken out of the field. Now he simply stays home most of the time, but he's not depressed. No, he hasn't changed much at all, actually. When he does go outside he acts kind to others to the point that he seems approachable despite his altered looks.

Sometimes he visits the three of them, normally staying for around five days or more depending on circumstances.

It's stressful when he comes. At least it is _before_ he comes. Sometimes it's the stress of the house not being cleaned, sometimes it's the stress of just not having a good day and not wanting to upset him once he's there and ruin the visit.

But, every single time, Charlie almost immediately destroys that stress. If the house is dirty he doesn't focus on it, and if he does, he doesn't mention it negatively, simply making a lighthearted joke about it or offering to help.

He also brings stories and games. Pulling Wilbur, Schlatt, and Dream away from their cycle of work, burnout, fighting, and then burnout to enjoy something that was carefree.

A breath of fresh air. Charlie Disorc was a breath of fresh air. Even to Schlatt, who closes himself off to basically everyone emotionally, maybe it was the perks of being related, or maybe it was just Charlie's personality.

Parts of the End have wings and horns, some even tails, though none of these three have tails, Charlie had everything _but_ horns.

And unlike everyone else, he didn't want them. A while back he got them removed, even! His wings and tail were taken off and Schlatt, Wilbur, and Dream visited him in the hospital every single chance they got until he had recovered.

Charlie was made for something, just like everyone. But he didn't _care._

_And Dream looked up to that._

He used to think of standing up to the system's assigning method as something big and bombastic, but Charlie was not like that. He didn't shout or yell his opinions of the system, he's even spoken fondly of his old job, he simply lived.

He made jokes, he made puns. He did any hobby that interested him and he didn't care if it was related to, 'What he was made for', he cared if it was _fun._

It's funny, because one night they'd talked about Charlie while he was visiting. He was in the guest room sleeping while they were up in the kitchen, being insomniacs who didn't even want to sleep at this point.

It was one of the first things that they had all really agreed on...

" _Charlie isn't a part of the End... he's... he's..._ "

" _He's Charlie._ "

" _He's Charlie._ "

" _I'd ask what that entails, but let's be honest. Nobody knows, right?_ "

" _Right._ "

_"Spot fuckin' on."_

" _Well, the coffee's gonna get cold. To Charlie?_ "

" _To Charlie!_ "

" _To Charlie!_ "

" _To Charlie!_ "

Looking back at it, they were all basically delirious from a lack of sleep, downing coffee like shots was _**NOT**_ a good idea.

Either way it was a nice moment. No fighting, just talking. Charlie woke up a bit after that and they all stayed up at that point, deciding to play one of the board games he'd brought until the Flare of Day went off. They didn't really do anything that day, though, they just kinda lounged around.

It was safe to say Charlie was an easy way to focus on happiness.

"So, how's it going for you three?"

Dream shrugged, not looking away from the tablet floating a few inches above his lap. "I got into this thingy recently, I guess, but you know that."

"Is there _nothing_ else?"

"Ehhh," Schlatt moved the glass in his hand in small circles, "not really? We've been doing nothing but work these days. If we aren't working we're sleeping or just sitting around in our own piss and tears and shit."

"That's a _disgusting_ description," Wilbur glared at him.

"Oh, too fuckin' bad."

"Guys, let's not fight," Charlie looked over to the two of them before looking at Dream, "What does that thing do again, Dream? You didn't explain it to me!"

"Oh, uh, Schlatt gave it to me. It's like, some coding shit? I'm just messing around, typing stuff. It doesn't really do much, it's not meant to."

"Oh! That sounds nice!" Charlie said as he returned to going through his bags, "Where the hell did I put the gifts I got for you guys?"

"I can help if you need me to-"

"No, it's fine, Wilbur!"

Dream sighed and tried to ignore the background noise of the others' conversation. He was being interrupted. He couldn't focus on the text he was writing. He was deleting and rewriting the same line over and over again and the background noise just repeated and repeated in his mind.

It's not their fault, but he was getting mad. He didn't want to recheck this over and over, he wanted to continue-

' _But what if something is wrong? You can't mess that up! You'll be embarrassed!_ '

He could check it later, couldn't he?

He felt gross. Something was wrong in that line, he knew it. But there wasn't anything wrong! What the HELL!?

He tried to ignore it, but his hands kept moving, deleting and repeating, _deleting and repeating, **deleting a-**_

He swung his hand up in a fist and slammed it into the arm of the couch. The others looked up and stared at him, making him feel embarrassed.

"S-sorry- Just a build up, had to get it out of my system."

"You alright?"

"I'm fine, I think I gotta take a break from this though, hands are being fucky," Dream said as he moved the tablet aside.

"Yeah, sounds like you need a break," Wilbur spoke, "You could break your hand, that works fine!"

"Dude, you were _so_ close to not being an asshole for once."

"I'm never close to that, mate, the fuck are you talking about?"

"I guess," Dream sighed.

" _Ohhhh my **Goooodddd...**_ " Charlie loudly groaned before standing up and rushing over to the kitchen sink.

Charlie gagged a few times and then coughed up purple slime, compared to the rest of the times he'd thrown up, it was a pretty small amount. He rubbed his mouth clean before turning to the others.

"I uh, I _forgot_ your gifts," his shoulders slumped, "at home. They're probably stuck in a mess right now and my home is pretty far away, and _I'm so sorry-_ "

"Oh, don't worry, dude," Schlatt took a drink out of his glass, "We all make mistakes."

"I know I just fucking feel bad!"

"You can grab 'em the next time ya' come around. Even if this time you can't stay overnight or anything, you can stay the next, our place is always open!"

"Plus, it just gives you time to make them better if you need to or something," Dream added, leaning his arm over the couch to look at Charlie.

"Yeah, I just wanted to have them to make up for the fact that I can't stay this time!" Charlie's voice shook, "I know you guys don't normally have much to look forward to, so I try to make my visits fun for you all!"

"Dude, it's _okay_ _,_ " Dream said, "You have your own life! We can't take that from you, and we don't want to!"

"Yeah! Let's just enjoy the time we have!" Wilbur put his arms out happily, "You haven't ruined anything! So don't feel so blue!"

"That's so stereotypical, Wilbur Soot."

"I'm _trying,_ Schlatt!"

"I'm sure we could find a game to play that's fast enough that we can finish it before Charlie has to go, right?" Dream asked.

"Oh! Y-yeah, I'd just have to look a bit longer but I'm sure one exists!" Charlie smiled, "Just give me time to look, don't be a _deck_ about it!"

Dream held back his laughter while Wilbur immediately choked on his own spit in response. Schlatt groaned and rolled his eyes, but gave a small smile to Charlie who returned it.

_The gift can wait._


	7. Don't Overheat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Violence Against Mobs (Specifically Skeletons), Hallucinations

George _used_ to hate reading.

But now, he doesn't hate it as much. Karl really did seem to have a sixth sense, fantasy _was_ the genre for him!

He had gotten four different books, one of which was admittedly a book made for a bit of a _younger_ audience, Karl had given him it as a bit of a starter compared to everything else. He hadn't gotten through the second book yet, and he was only in the beginning but it was going well already!

George had a little mishap with the journal he had been gifted, but who cares about that!

Not him! _Because he's sneaking out again tonight._ He had promised Sapnap that he would try and sketch out some of the landscapes he could see. He admittedly wasn't the best at art, but it was the least he could do.

After the original unorthodox introduction of his penpal from another dimension, the two had gotten relatively better at interaction. _At least he thinks that they have..._

But he shouldn't procrastinate any longer!

George scribbled a message on the paper with a pencil before shutting the book.

' _I'm gonna go now! I'll try and escape the Archives as fast as possible and find some good places to copy down! - George_ '

And with that he put the pencil into his pencil case before throwing both it and the book into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He then went to his bedroom's window, unlocking it and grabbing a small wooden block that blended in to the wood surrounding it.

He lifted the window open and climbed through, standing on a few of the looser bricks and sliding the block under the window, stopping it from falling shut and auto-locking itself. He began carefully climbing down the wall, avoiding any other windows until he finally reached the ground.

Once he did so, he took a moment to settle himself. The process going down wasn't all too easy, especially when it was dark out like it was now.

Overworld parts can easily lose their sense of reality when in situations that can cause them physical damage. Nobody quite knows _why_ _,_ but there is a theory that is commonly widespread.

When a part feels as if they're in a physically dangerous situation, they start seeing and hearing multiple things. Most of the time they're mobs that could possibly deal with the stressful situation that is occurring with ease. It's been assumed that it's leftover from when parts of the Overworld could create without limitations, when a part was in danger back then, they simply summoned something to protect them.

Now that they can't, the mental picturing of the summoning process has stayed. The more you can't summon, the more builds up, hence multiple noises and visions over lapping and causing the part to go a _little_ bit crazy.

In this case he was mainly seeing flying creatures, alot of which weren't exactly _passive._ So he was seeing and hearing the cries of things that would normally attack people such as him. George normally likes to be confident about the fact that he can recover from these ' _Creation Malfunctions_ ' faster than the average part, but this time it was taking a _little_ longer than he was used to, and he didn't like that.

But he stayed still, breathing slowly, closing his eyes.

' _It's not real, you're safe, it's okay,_ ' he thought to himself, ' _It's okay..._ '

He froze as another thing appeared in his vision.

His book.

It began to slowly open. Out of all the mess he heard and saw he tried to focus on the blue covered book, and he succeeded to a certain extent. It opened fully and the pages were being written on in familiar red, a slight glow of orange around the text as it was scribbled down in frantic and fast strokes.

' _Where is he going? It's okay. It's okay. Where is he? Is he safe? I'm sure he's safe. He's safe. It's okay. You'll talk later. He is safe. It is okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay. You are okay._ '

The pages rapidly flipped through themselves, text writing itself faster and faster, confusing George and slightly raising his stress. He reached for the book despite knowing it wasn't there and-

" _It's gonna be okay, Sapnap. He'll go out there, he'll draw, and he'll get back._ "

That wasn't his voice.

That certainly wasn't his voice, it was different in so many ways. It lacked an accent, it deeper, a bit dorkier. It also sounded as if it was holding something in it's throat down, gulping it back multiple times.

" _Don't overheat. You just recasted. You can't get a full body cast right away._ "

"I-"

" _Don't overheat. You can't. Don't overheat... George?-_ "

And it faded away, just like that. Followed by everything else.

' _Don't overheat. You can't,_ ' he thought to himself.

" _Sapnap..._ " he spoke to himself in a hushed tone.

He opened his eyes as he slowly stood up. He won't.

He began to run across the grass, going to one of the wall's doors and slipping through. He climbed up the stairs of one of the towers before looking around for the place he had gone to last time. Bingo.

He climbed onto the top of the wall a little before throwing himself forward at a sturdy tree branch. He grabbed onto it before taking a second to breathe. Once his lungs were back to working as they should normally, he began to climb down the tree.

He got to the grass and immediately started to sprint again. This time he didn't look at the forest around him, not only would it waste time, but it could be dangerous.

He ran to the town, following his memory to the library.

_Just in time._

Karl and Quackity were talking outside of the building's doors and he could tell that the lights were off. Compared to the last time he'd been here, the streets were almost empty. He wasn't suprised by that, the sun isn't even out any more, so it was the logical option for most people.

"Karl! Quackity!"

The two turned to him and Karl smiled.

"George!"

George finally caught up to them and breathed heavily before speaking.

" _Do you guys know any pretty places?_ "

" _Pretty places?_ " Quackity smirked, "What, you got a _date?~_ "

"N-no!" George stiffened, "I have a friend who can't... see this place. _Any of it..._ I wanna copy it down for him... L-like in a drawing...?"

"Who's the friend?" Karl asked.

"I'd rather not say."

"Alright, me and Karl were about to head back to our place," Quackity crossed his arms and shrugged, "It's a pretty ' _pretty_ ' path, you could head there with us, we were gonna take a little swim."

"A swim?"

"Yeah! We have a little pretty lake or pond or whatever that we swim in from time to time, it's nice!" Karl said.

"That sounds epic!" George grinned, "Thank you! I- _We-_ appreciate it!"

"No problem, let's get goin' though. Especially because of your little curfew."

"Hey! It's not a curfew!" George huffed.

"I'm sure it's not," Quackity responded.

"Let's just get going!" Karl turned around, beginning to walk ahead of them.

George and Quackity joined him. Though Quackity had flown a little ahead of the others, pulling out a hatchet. When George asked for the reason, he had been told that despite them working in town and despite the paths outside of the town being somewhat lit up, mobs occasionally wander onto them.

Putting two-and-two together, he obviously got four. And responded as expected from someone who had been pretty sheltered most of his life, with silent anxiety.

He tried to not allow it to spiral out of control this time. He did a decent job, having only auditory noises that weren't that strong.

As the walk continued, they found themselves going through another patch of forest. George looked around any where he could, just in case he would be able to see things before the others. He could probably help a little bit if they got attacked, he had studied these creatures for his entire life! He knew small facts and tidbits, he knew the basics of them. Then again if you put him on the spot he might fumble, so the ' _help_ ' may not be perfect.

It did look nice, though. The lanterns hanging from wooden poles lit up the path just enough to give it an aesthetic that George had never seen before. The small moments where he could fully focus on the sounds of reality were also nice. Crickets chirping and the occasional croak of a frog or two were relatively comforting noises compared to the quiet shouts and cries of his head.

" _You can't overheat._ "

' _I won't,_ ' he thought in response.

He looked up right after, noticing a skeleton not very far away on the side of the path and already aiming at Quackity.

" ** _SKELETON!_** "

" _Wh-_ OH, **_SHIT!-_** " Quackity raised the metal of the hatchet up just in time for the arrow to hit _it_ instead of his face.

"Karl, come with me!" George grabbed onto the other's arm and pulled him past Quackity.

"W-what about him!?-"

"I got it," George stopped and turned around, shouting at the duck hybrid that was dodging arrow after arrow, " _ **QUACKITY!** _WAIT UNTIL ITS ENERGY RUNS OUT AND IT SLOWS DOWN! THEN HIT FROM THE BACK!"

Quackity stared at George and time seemed to slow down.

"DO. **_NOT._** OVERHEAT!" He blurted.

Both of Quackity's eyes turned blue for a second before time seemed to catch up with itself and they returned to normal. Quackity started dodging with more effort, which was easier for him due to his ability to fly.

Eventually the arrows slowed down and Quackity did just as George said. Karl and George watched as he flew into the dark trees. A muffled ' _Come on!_ ' was heard before a wack.

A skull flew over the path, followed by Quackity holding the rest of the skeleton by its back and throwing it in the skull's direction.

"Y-YOU _DID_ IT!" George grinned as he ran up to Quackity and hugged him, "THAT WAS SO FUCKING **_COOL!!!_** "

Karl joined in on the hug, seconding George's statement without hesitation.

"LET'S **_GO,_ **DUDE!!! YOU _POPPED OFF!!!_ "

Quackity turned a violent shade of red and chuckled shyly. "I really didn't do much- George helped too!-"

" _I_ didn't do shit!"

"YOU BOTH DID A _TON_ OF CRAP!" Karl lightly hit George on the head, "I just sat doing nothing!"

"Sat looking pretty?" Quackity asked.

"Absolutely," Karl responded, "Anyways a swim _really_ sounds good now."

"Haha, yeah," George said.

"Let's get going, _again,_ " Quackity sighed.

The three checked to see if they had accidentally dropped anything before continuing on. Luckily, they had gone most of the way already, leading to them getting to Karl and Quackity's home quite fast.

It wasn't anything extravagant, but it also wasn't ugly. And what do you know, there _was_ a small body of water just a few steps away from the building itself. A mountain curved over the pool, making it have an 'entrance' of sorts.

"Oh, _fuck,_ George, do you have anything to swim in?" Quackity asked.

" _Oooooooooh,_ crap, no."

"I'd say you could use ours, but I'm not sure if they'd fit," Karl frowned.

"I mean, I can just dip my feet in! The next time I see you guys I'll just make sure to get my clothing size and you could probably grab something for me," George shrugged, "I'd get a pair myself but where I live I don't exactly _have_ any place to get some. I can try and pay you back, though."

"Don't worry about paying us back! It's chill, dude!" Quackity elbowed George.

After a bit more banter they went into Karl and Quackity's home. George stayed right next to the front door, waiting for Quackity and Karl to change. Once they returned the group went out to the water and Karl and Quackity jumped in.

George had taken off his boots and pulled his pant legs up before sitting on the stone that was on the outer edges of the water. He put his legs in slowly, making sure to get used to the cold temperature of the liquid before doing anything else.

"So, how is it?"

"It's a bit chilly, but it's nice."

"Poggers!"

"You said you had to draw something, didn't you, George?" Karl looked at the part suddenly.

"O-oh, yeah!" George smiled, "I almost forgot!"

"Why don't you draw the water?"

"I could! Well, I can _try_ at least."

"Go at it, 's not like either of us _care._ Just make sure to draw me _super_ tall and _super_ buff," Quackity said as he stretched his wings out.

"Yeah _right,_ " George laughed a bit.

"What the _fuuuuck,_ you're so fuckin' _mean,_ dude!" Quackity whined.

George rolled his eyes and grabbed the pencil case and journal he'd put in his bag, listening to Karl and Quackity's conversation as he flipped to the nearest blank page.

' _Sorry that there's only one place I could get. This was the best place I could find at the time that was safe to stay at to copy down. I'm not an artist, so, it might not be the best. - George_ '

And he began to draw. The cool water stopping his stress from getting out of control.

He is not cold, but he is cool.

_He's **not** overheating._


	8. The Cooking Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Implied butchering of an animal, its already dead tho, so yeahhh,,,,, theres also some blood, sooooooo,,,,,,,,,,

Living in a household with two sets of brothers from different families was quite hard at times, _especially_ for someone like Badboyhalo.

On one side of the house, you have Sapnap and Punz, parts of the Nether specifically based of fire and soul fire. These two are the pair that he had officially raised from hatching.

On the other side, there was Tommy and Technoblade, parts of the Nether specifically based of Wither Skeleton and Piglin. He hadn't adopted them, but he did take them in after finding them roaming out and about and starving.

Ever since then, Bad _barely_ knew even the _concept_ of peace.

Between angsty emotions, fighting, and the biological predisposition to angering easily, Bad was stuck with four quite different people to take care of and entertain.

Bad, personally, would rather keep even play fighting out of the house, he had to find other distractions for them all. So, he made most of them into challenges, Brothers vs. Brothers.

Originally he tried mining, whoever could get the most gold and bring it back to him would get a prize! That prize being a special secret recipe that Bad specialized in...

_Magma frosted muffins!_

Bad was actually quite old, so his tastebuds had changed over time. Despite being a Nether part, he had gotten to the point where if a food was _too_ spicy, he couldn't handle it. So whenever he made the muffins, he had to make two different batches, one mainly for himself with less spicy magma cream, and then another batch with the spiciest magma cream he could find for the others.

Not only did the others love the flavor, but it's healthy for parts their age! It's warm enough that it gives them a much needed boost of heat, but it's not so warm that it could accidentally overheat them.

( _Unless you're Tommy, who snuck out once to eat a whole fresh baked tray and ended up overheated in the middle of the night and had to be found on the kitchen floor with his body exploded in multiple places. Luckily they just had to throw Tommy into the casting pool to fully recast him and he came out as good as new._ )

The prize was obviously worth it to all four of them and it showed. Bad had never seen Techno and Tommy try to get along as much as they did that day, so it became his go-to method of bribery.

After mining, Bad tried gathering. Once again he put the two duos against one another. They each did well, collecting anything that they saw as potentially useful or needed, but it wasn't the _best._

Later on, he found the perfect time waster for them all!

Cooking!

Just plain old cooking.

It's not shocking, many parts of the Nether were inclined to the culinary arts. After being in one place for so long and realizing that consuming things _wasn't exactly dangerous,_ you can only do one thing.

Throw anything you can find into a bowl and then shove it down your gullet!

And today they're doing just that! Not even in a challenging sense, they were just cooking. Bad had given them a few days to figure out their favourite types of food so they could then try to mix it all together.

Sapnap didn't know what the other's were making, but he knew the basics of what he wanted. He wanted something _hot._ Something **_spicy._**

The first thing he knew is that he wanted to get the weakened parts of crimson stems. Crimson stems are, for the most part, nonflammable, except for a few areas in the middle of some. If you can cut out those parts and hold them above a flame carefully enough to blacken them, you have one of Sapnap's favorite fucking snacks right there!

You can bite into it and it falls apart and flakes into your mouth, it's even better when it's still warm and the inside of the chunk is lit.

That's not the only thing he wants though. He wants pork in there too, maybe coating it in some magma cream before cooking it, just for the extra flavor. He could also add diced crimson fungus! The spicier the better!

Unfortunately, he had everything gathered up and prepared _other_ than the pork. The pork was here, yes, but it wasn't cut up.

Infact they a whole hoglin corpse to deal with and split up accordingly, Sapnap didn't know _what_ part of it he wanted to hack off, but he knew that he had to choose. As he thought about it, he decided that George wouldn't be opposed to know a bit more about the Nether, so he decided to write down the tester recipe for him.

' _I don't even know if your stupid head is awake but my dad is having us cook with no fucking training wheels y'know what I mean? So here's what I'm trying out;_

_\- Charred Crimson Stem_

_\- Pork Coated in Magma Cream_

_\- Diced Crimson Fungus_

_I'm gonna fuck my fucking tastebuds up so fucking bad and it's gonna be fucking awesome maybe if I spit some of it on the page it'll transfer over to you lmao either way I'll tell you how it ends up. - SN_ '

' _My penpal is about to fucking die. - George_ '

' _YOU KNOW IT, BABYYYYYYYY!!!!_ _\- SN_ '

Sapnap shut the book, ignoring the small sound of a voice saying, ' _There you are_ ', and assuming that it was just someone passing by their place of residence. He put the book on the ground by the entrance of the butcher's shack that held the dead hoglin's body on a table.

He had finally decided. He grabbed onto one of the golden cleavers and walked over to the table. This was going to get messy as **_hell._**

And it _was_ messy. Sapnap decided to be nice, cutting up the entire mob into clean slices that the others could use if they needed. Grabbing onto a few of the slices, he put the cleaver down and walked to the exit, grabbing the book once more.

He went over to his preparation table, setting down the book again and putting the meat with the rest of his ingredients.

" _SAPNAP!!!_ "

He turned to Bad's voice and raised a brow, tilting his head in confusion at the other's concern.

"What?"

" _YOUR SHIRT IS COVERED IN **BLOOD!!!!!**_ " Bad screamed.

He looked down to his normal-wear, white cloth covered in blood, he guesses that the fire image being stained _is_ annoying, but he didn't really see it as a huge problem.

" _So?..._ "

"THIS **_AND_** YOUR RECASTED LEGS MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE YOU ALMOST DIED!" Bad yanked at his own hair, "I'M GONNA LOOK LIKE A BAD FATHER!!!!"

"You _are_ a bad father though?" Sapnap mocked, "Your name is Bad? You're my father? You're a Bad Father? You're _LITERALLY_ a Bad Father?"

" _That's not funny..."_ Bad whined.

"You're an _amazing_ father, Bad," Punz said as he wrapped an arm around Sapnap's shoulder, "Don't listen to little ol' sparky over here."

"I'M **_NOT_** A SPARKY!?" Sapnap's voice cracked as his face turned red.

"Your voice says _otherwise~._ "

"I-I'M _GROWN UP!_ I'M BIG AND STRONG **_JUST_** LIKE YOU! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL SPECIAL AND BLUE AND DUMB AND GET AN ADVANTAGE DOESN'T MEAN THAT I'M A **_SPARKY!!!_** " Sapnap shouted in embarrassment.

"Why are you so heated, little guy?"

"I AM **_NOT_** A LITTLE GUY!!! LOOK AT ME COMPARED TO TOMMY!"

"He doesn't count, he's a wither skeleton base!"

"W-WELL- _UH-_ "

"' _Uh_ ', what?" Punz smirked.

Sapnap grumbled before throwing a fist at Punz' face, resulting in the older retaliating by throwing Sapnap to the ground. Sapnap kicked at Punz' legs, making him fall down aswell, he then crawled over Punz, grabbing onto the other's hood and pulling it over his eyes.

"DUDE, THAT'S TOXIC!!!"

"NO, IT'S JUST TACTICS!" Sapnap shouted back before shoving his shoe into Punz' ribs.

" ** _BOYS!!!_** "

Both froze and stared at Bad, gulping at the other's disappointed glare. Sometimes you get too in the moment, Sapnap guesses. It's not like they were fighting because they didn't like eachother, they were just messing around. Nonetheless, they _know_ Bad doesn't like the fighting, so they let go of eachother and stood up.

" _Sorry, Dad..._ "

Punz wiped off his white hoodie, cringing at the smeared red stains that littered it. "Maybe Bad was right about your shirt-"

"Okay, _loser,_ obviously you can't handle a bit of violence why don't you go over and fuckin' join the Overworld if you're so _peace-loving,_ **_pussy,_** " Sapnap gave his brother a middle finger and stuck his tongue out before realizing what he had said.

 _Old habits really do die hard..._ He's lucky that George couldn't hear him, because he'd feel like a _real_ asshole then.

"I can _HANDLE_ violence, Sparky," Punz scoffed as he turned around, waving the other off, "Anyways, I'm gonna go back to cooking. Thanks for cutting the meat, by the way!"

" ** _No problem..._** " Sapnap grumbled.

"Please just get to cooking, kiddo," Bad asked politely, "We uh- we can wash your shirt off _later,_ I guess."

"Alright."

Sapnap turned back to his table, grabbing the slices of meat that he'd taken and putting them in the middle of the table. He then grabbed the jar of magma cream and opened it. He shrugged, deciding that hygiene wasn't his main priority, he stuck his hand into the cream.

He took his hand out and rubbed it over the meat. Every inch that he could feel, he put magma cream on, making an even larger mess than he had before. Sapnap put the meat down and grabbed the stems that he'd previously collected. He grabbed a netherite tray and placed them onto it, making sure to place the meat ontop of the stems, mostly just for looks.

Sapnap crouched down and put the tray into it's holder above some netherrack before he rubbed his hands together, focusing on the warmth of his palms. He finally clapped them together once he assumed that they were ready and flames flew out of his hands. He placed his hands onto the netherrack until it caught on fire before removing them.

Now comes the boring part.

" _I can't believe I forgot you!_ "

Sapnap turned to the book, an air of fear surrounded him as he heard the voice for a second time now.

He had to be hearing things...

He grabbed the book, pulling out the stem and ink that he had begun to regularly keep on his person.

' _George are you talking? - SN_ '

It took a minute for the other to respond, but he did so, this time in blue pencil.

' _No? I haven't been for a good while. I've been studying up on cave creatures, why? - George_ '

' _Oh, okay... weird. Anyways the food is cooking right now! We'll see if I croak or not lmao. - SN_ '

' _You're going to regret it. - George_ '

' _Oh, PLEASE, George you forget that this is my NORMAL diet! Your frail little body might not be able to digest fire and shit but I can! - SN_'

' _I guess you've got a point. - George_ '

Sapnap smiled to himself and continued writing to George, making the other respond with logical options to his nonsensical messages. He was honestly not thinking _at all._ He was just writing down continuous bullshit that flung it's way into his thought process.

It continued like this until he figured that the food was done cooking, telling George to wait, he put down the pencil and book and crouched down to the tray. He warmed his hands up again and then grabbed the tray, putting it on the table.

He sniffled a bit as his nose got used to the smell, but he failed to catch the lava building up in his throat, causing him to barf over the meal.

"BRUUUUHHH..."

He shot his head up to look over to Techno's table and glared at him. "Shut the **_frick_** up."

" _THAT'S **SO** EMBARRASSING FOR YOU!_" Tommy shouted in his direction.

Sapnap rolled his eyes, not giving the other a response. It's not even a big deal, he could eat lava, it's not even _alot_ of lava!

He grabbed onto the food with both hands and shoved it into his mouth, he then grabbed the jar of diced fungus and poured it in alongside it.

He chewed the food quite easily due to his sharp teeth, and he was thankful for that. Even if he _did_ love the taste of spicy and hot food, he could feel the back of his throat beginning to burn and tear away.

He swallowed once he had the food chewed entirely, grimacing as the large mass forced its way down his throat, once it was all the way down, Sapnap sighed, and then let out a loud burp.

"Sapnap, manners, _please,_ " Bad said as he walked next to him.

"Sorry, I didn't wanna waste it."

"Was it at least good?" Bad asked.

"Hell yeah!"

"That's nice, Sapnap! I'm proud of you!" Bad changed his form slightly, growing taller than Sapnap and patting his head with a large black claw and a smile.

Sapnap smiled in response and hugged his dad to the best of his ability. Despite everything, he loved Bad, and Bad being proud of him was honestly all he could ask for!


	9. "Sorry I Forgot..."

Dream groaned as he opened his eyes, throat sore from last night's argument.

He totally fucked up his throat from shouting so much. He _also_ totally fucked up all the progress they'd made so far by punching Schlatt too...

God, he _**fucked** up._

They all did, but _especially_ him. He **_knows_** better! He **_knows_** Schlatt isn't built for physical conflict and he _still_ did it. The argument was no excuse, he was an _idiot._

' _I gotta apologize to him,_ ' he thought to himself, ' _and Wilbur..._ '

Charlie is probably going to be upset too. What a mess, holy _shit._

Dream sat up and rubbed his head as he looked around his bedroom, he immediately noticed a item in his window that hadn't been there before.

The man got up slowly and went over to it, seeing a green book with a piece of paper placed on top.

' _Hey, Dream! Here's the gift I was going to give you a while back! Sorry I forgot! I wasn't able to stay, so I just decided to put the gifts in your windows to keep from disturbing you all! This is just a nice journal that I thought you could use! Yours Truly, Charlie :)_ '

Dream chuckled a bit at the formality of the letter's end before pulling the note off and looking at the book. He opened the cover to examine it and he froze.

Was... was it a _used_ journal?

He flipped through the pages a bit more, ending on a page that was being written on in real time.

_In real fucking time..._

' _Dude, I don't wnt to fucKing get out of bed tday I'm LITERALLY so reAdy T go into a coma. - SN_ '

' _You can't just die on your family like that, lol. - George_ '

What the Hell.

That's... weird. That's really weird, like, super duper, weird, like- like-

He didn't even have the _words_ for it.

He didn't _like_ it. He was weirded out! He felt like he was messing with something he shouldn't mess with, especially because some of the text just looked like straight up _blood._

Dream didn't know what would happen if he kept this thing. For all he knows the higher-ups could be watching him just because he _has_ this book! He doesn't even know how it's doing this. It's not any type of technology _he's_ seen before. It could be magic, but it's no type of magic that he knows of, and he knows alot of it!

Maybe Charlie should have just forgotten the gift entirely. He could have just given Dream a fidgeting toy, lord knows that he finds those pretty useful when it comes to focusing.

' _GeOrge, I thInk I'm gnonna try and eat sme of My hair. - SN_ '

' _What the fuck is wrong with you. - George_ '

' _I Have aot of hair, dUde. I'm so fucing hot. I'm just s FuKKing sxy. - SN_ '

' _AND_ _WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS??? - George_ '

' _GEorgieeee I'ma be cmpLetely hOnest I am **SI** **cKkkkk!**_ _\- SN_ '

' _You can do that? What are you even sick with??? - George_ '

' _I dUnno whAt it is but like, soMetmes w just get **coldddddd,**_ _y'know WHat I mean? Shit FuKS YOUR heAd due! BrAin's frezin' it's shit ovErrr!! - SN_ '

' _Okay, now I'm concerned. Do you have any medicine there that like? Helps with that? - George_ '

' _YaHhHH bro dw mANS alREAdy on it!!! It's liKe Rlly fCkin dngErous th lMao. - SN_ '

' _What do you mean dangerous? - George_ '

' _All I'ma saY is rn I'm diPpin' my Head iNto lava evErY oce aNd a wile ad if I do Hat shIt WRoNg I risk fcKing up And aviNg my heAd EXPLDE and tHeN I'lL ned to recaSt it. - SN_ '

' _Recast?... - George_ '

'Y _ah lmAo. - SN_ '

' _Interesting... - George_ '

Dream slammed the book shut. Taking a moment to breathe, he thought about what to do with it. He couldn't just throw it away. Even if it was creepy, it _was_ a gift.

Charlie could also run into him at any time, he would have to know where it is at all times. Maybe he could just put it on his desk and carry it around once and a while? It was the best plan he could think of.

He shrugged, grabbing the book and walking over to his desk, haphazardly throwing it down amongst the assortment of writing equipment and papers riddled in doodles. He wasn't going to risk _his_ life over some stupid _probably-a-prank_ book.

It's not important, _not explainable._ It was different, and **_wrong._** Dream didn't want _anything_ to do with it. But he's polite, he can't just basically say, ' _Fuck you!_ ' to Charlie, not only would that be shitty to _Charlie,_ but Schlatt wouldn't allow it.

He pushed his hair out of his face before leaving his room and immediately being greated by the ramblings of two madmen who were desperate to discourage eachother no matter the cost.

"Surely you have _other_ interests, Schlatt!"

"Yeah, sucking dick."

"Oh, that's _so_ immature, my friend!" Wilbur hummed, " _I meant_ **_seriously._** "

"My interest is my **_job,_** that's it."

" _That, and having a lack of consistent morals-_ " Wilbur whispered beneath a smile.

"My line of work makes them hard to have sometimes! Who fucking cares as long as I get my job **_done?_** "

" _Oh, shut the fuck up,_ " Dream rasped out, shooting a glare at his roommates.

" _Oh!_ Mr. Punch and Shout is _finally_ up, _look at that!~_ " Wilbur said gleefully.

"Yeah, it seems as such," Schlatt turned to look at Dream, black eye already fully formed, "How ya' doin'?"

Dream shrugged in response as he held back coughs, throat painfully sore.

"Ah, ya' busted your vocals, didn't ya' Big Guy?" Schlatt smiled.

"I'm not suprised, the only reason I didn't lose mine is because I'm **_made_** to speak, and you didn't yell the _entire_ time," Wilbur mocked, " _I guess Dream's_ _just not made for any altercations that aren't physical!~_ "

Dream huffed, crossing his arms. He _can't_ give Wilbur this. He _knows_ Wilbur acts like this after arguments, he just can't feed into it. At least the most Schlatt does after them is small remarks, Wilbur just likes to push and push until he finally **_wins._**

In this case, winning was making Dream mad about something he already hated about himself.

' _Petty bitch._ '

"I forgot that he can't speak!" Wilbur laughed, " _Maybe he should work on that?~_ "

"You're being a dick again," Schlatt turned back to Wilbur.

"Like **_you_** aren't normally?" Wilbur raised a brow.

"Oh, nobody said I _wasn't,_ " Schlatt put a hand on his chest, "I just do it when it _benefits_ me, y'know? Not just _whenever_ I feel like it? Because that's fucking **_childish?_** "

"OH, my _GOD!_ Are you arguing the morals of what the times to be an **_asshat_** are!?"

"Well, you're the one that started it!"

Dream walked past the two of them and to the fridge. Sometimes he questioned why he was even friends with these two, they were basically the same asshole in different fonts.

" _Please, shut up. **Both** of you,_" Dream said again, " _I'm serious this time._ "

" _Wooooow,_ you gonna _cry?~_ " Wilbur crossed his arms.

" _Whatever,_ I'm gonna leave," Schlatt stood up from the dining table, "You two are annoying as hell sometimes."

" _Don't let the door hit ya' on the way out!~_ " Wilbur called after him.

Dream wasn't going to apologize today, **_fuck that._**


	10. A Past Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Slight body horror(?), Implied Murder(s)

George doesn't know his parents. It's better that way.

He wasn't even meant to exist. His father was a great part of the Overworld, he was one of the most powerful parts of his time, many the others happily listened to him and his stories of the past realms that they used to share the Archives with.

" _We were once friends with the End and the Nether! We shared this archive with them and we ran ideas past one another! We used to be called the Realm Archives!_ "

He wasn't proud of what the others had done, but the history was important to him. He wanted to share the past, he and his friend Sunny seemed like the only people who wanted to.

And they _were._ No question about it.

Sunny had been hurt by the entire ordeal, they still were hurt even after hundreds of years. They had been in love with an End part and a Nether part, only to be forcefully separated by the selfish actions of their superiors.

Martin remembers Sunny's partners clearly, Prin and Elan. They were all friends, actually! They were _why_ Martin wanted people to remember the Nether and the End. Prin was so, so _proud_ of the Nether, and Elan was so, so _excited_ for the future of the End! Martin doesn't want them to be forgotten... they don't deserve to be forgotten.

Martin was a hindrance to what the rest of the Overworld wanted. Martin didn't want the other worlds to be forgotten, he didn't even want to hide the fact that he didn't **_agree_** with forcing the End and Nether away, he was an issue.

They talked to him, but he never changed. They merely tolerated him, keeping his books and letting him speak. Martin even let other Overworld parts outside for fun! Just to explore the lands they'd all created!

_And then he messed up..._

He'd fallen in love with a woman. A kind lady who was everything he could ask for, _Sarah._ Oh, he could go on for _days_ about that woman. She was a knight in a local kingdom, she didn't take shit from _anyone._ She was also quite elegant! Martin had met her at a party that he'd snuck into, and she was, of course, apprehensive to his foolish attempts to flirt, but eventually she softened up to him.

" _Meet me in the castle gardens next Friday, alright?_ "

" _YES! I-I will!_ "

From then on you could guess what happened. Romance and love, stereotypical things.

That all unfortunately, and sadly, led up to George.

His birth wasn't happy. When the others found out it was going to happen, they forced it to happen in the Archives.

Humans and Overworld parts are not a common mix. In fact, they are discouraged from even happening, and why is that, you ask?

Because their emotions are too unstable to make a healthy form at birth, this was _obvious_ with George. A mixture of flesh, blood, a few partial organs, rocks, water, and plants in a shape that didnt even resemble human. All accompanied by sobs that echoed throughout the room.

Martin wasn't there for it...

_Martin wasn't there anymore... and Sarah wasn't going to be there soon..._

George was taken in by the Archive after that day. They kept him in a pool of shallow water, surrounding the small boy with objects with peaceful and happy memories. They even came in to sing to him occasionally, hoping to calm his emotions to the point that his form would stabilize itself.

And it almost worked! Until Sunny tried to steal him away, of course this simply resulted in George turning into an even _worse_ form. Loud screams echoed throughout the halls, and Sunny _tried_ to calm him, they really, truly, did. Sunny _wanted_ to help George and get him away from that terrible place.

_They failed._

Surely if George knew what he knew now, knew the boredom and the monotony that he would have been put through? He would have been quiet, he would have happily gone with Sunny!

But he wasn't even capable of thinking about the future at that point of his life. When George was returned to the hands of the Archive he was moved, locked deeper into the building. They put more and more into the room, they warmed up the water, they treated him gently, and _finally,_ just finally.

His eyes had moved into place.

As time went on, more moved into place. Slowly but surely making the shape of a young baby. He was kept in the room after he had taken the form of a baby for just a bit longer, just to make sure that George would stay in this form.

Once they were sure of his stability, he was taken out. The only real reason they were keeping him was because of his father. No matter how unruly, Martin was a _legendary_ man, and George held his legacy in his blood. The Overworld finds legacy important, as long as you're useful to them.

Maybe they shouldn't have kept George, come to think of it. Because he's not exactly good at listening, _just like his father._

George doesn't remember his parents, and oddly enough, he doesn't even want to. He's fine not knowing what happened to them or who they were. He would rather it this way. If he had to learn what happened to them for something important, so be it, if he _never_ had to learn about it? He's fine with that too!

Because who the _hell_ cares about people they've never met, _y_ _ou know?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refuse to use actual parents' names for Anything.


	11. Little Embers Of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am aware that this chapter is a very slight retcon but i edited the old chapters to fit it (i think i got everything), either way this is canon, yes, ignore the past

The process of making certain Nether parts is a rather complicated one, atleast in preparation. The common bases of Nether parts are fire, soul fire, and lava.

First of all, you have to find the base, a base consists of the material you wish for the part to be composed of. This base will influence their behavior, their mannerisms, sometimes even their physical looks. It is a base, after all!

Then you have to get blood. Many couples take blood from each of their forms and mix them together. Bad personally took the blood from an old, long-gone friend. They were never exactly as strong as the regular part, probably because they had a bit of human in there, but that didn't deter Bad.

Then you have to spend a good while calming yourself, warming yourself up slightly more than normally on an on and off basis, just to prepare yourself for the more dangerous part of the process.

You also have to find the right place to form an egg. Many places have been built for this exact purpose! Unfortunately, not every single place works for every single base type. Some need different habitats and even different circumstances, such as most mob bases! Many of those accidentally form and just start roaming around mindlessly until they're found.

Bad simply decided to go 'home grown', per say, he read up on what he would need as much as he could! The soul fire base was easier to mess up, so he worked on that one first.

' _Make a nest of soulsand underground, make sure that this nest is very deep into the netherrack._ '

Easy, _kind of?_ From what he's read in many other books, he knows that the word ' _very_ ' is an understatement. He needs to dig up _**alot.**_ With as far as he needed to go it would probably take days, especially since he also had to fluctuate his heat levels.

So, he got the help of a friend! Skeppy! A magma cube base part! He felt bad that they hadn't been able to hang out much recently, so why not work on creating a good place for an egg together?

" _Bad!_ "

" _Skeppy! I'm so happy that you agreed to help me!_ " Bad smiled.

" _I'd be a jerk not to!_ " Skeppy shrugged before squinting up at Bad, " _You're, uh- really tall today!-_ "

" _Oh! Yeah! Sorry!_ " Bad chuckled and took a moment to shrink his form down before putting a hand out to Skeppy.

Skeppy happily took Bad's hand and shook it, and after a bit of catching up they _finally_ got to work. Asking Skeppy to help was a _great_ choice, seeing as not only did they get to hang out, but they also got it done in about a week and a half!

Bad was slightly sad that they got it done so quickly, but he knew that they could always hang out later once they had the time. So he said goodbye to Skeppy before checking over the nest. It was _perfect!_ Now, he had to light some soul fire under it, which was an easy task. All he had to do was just set some of the soul soil under it on fire.

He did have to put a _little_ something on it first.

Bad took out the blood and poured a bit of it into the nest, followed by him warming one of his hands up. This next part might hurt a little bit, but it's nothing major, it would just hurt like a small scratch!

He waited till the hand was warm enough before he gripped a small part of his finger. A chunk flaked off and fell into the nest with the blood. He would heal that up later, for now he was setting a fire.

Now, you can guess who's egg he made that day, Punz! Sapnap's older brother! Sometimes eggs take a _very_ long time before hatching, though. _Especially_ when there's a good bit of human involved. This led to Bad already starting Sapnap's nest while Punz was still in his egg.

Sapnap's egg was simple with its requirements, a nest-like shape made out of netherrack with more flakes of Bad's form and a few drops of the blood, pour some lava in there and wait till the egg forms. Once it's formed, submerge it _entirely_ in lava, but do make sure to check on the egg every now and then! If it's in there for too long you could risk killing off the child, and Bad would **_never_** forgive himself if that happened.

Sooner or later he had one egg in his home, simply covered in blankets and a few handfuls of soulsand, and another in a contraption somewhat similar to that of a fireplace in design. It's actual purpose was different, though. Bad had connected a lever to a dispenser that he could turn on and off, when it was on, lava poured down onto the notably smaller egg, and when it was off, the lava stopped flowing and simply went around and back into the dispenser until Bad turned it on again.

Bad _knew_ that they weren't alive-alive yet, but he was _SO_ excited! He talked to them, sometimes he cradled them! He also read them a story or two, just in case they _could_ hear him. If they _could_ hear him he wants them to know that he has every intention to be the best father _**EVER!**_

Punz, as expected, hatched first. Right in front of Bad's eyes. He broke right out of that egg in a burst of blue flames! Sapnap hatched about a month later in a similar style to Punz, minus the blue.

He was noticeably younger than Punz, which especially showed in his height. But nonetheless they were his small little embers!

And he was happy to be a father!...

Happy to care for something without focusing on how it would ' _benefit_ ' him. He was a father because he _wanted_ to help something, and he wanted to teach that something that it should help others aswell.

But he won't punish them if they don't agree. _That's wrong._ No matter what he'll care for these two to the ends of the Nether!

He already loves the blueish dark grey of Sapnap's eyes, and the slightly brighter blue of Punz'. God, _he can't wait to see them grow up!_


	12. Self Control

"And that's why I need your help, okay? If not now, later. But I'm not going to fucking apologize."

"You _never_ apologize, Wilbur. That's the problem."

"You have the same problem!"

"... _I suppose so..._ "

Dream was focusing on the conversation as much as he could. Anything to not focus on the book.

Self control wasn't something Dream was extremely good at, and this situation right here was an example of that.

No matter how fucking _creepy_ that damn book was, Dream kept having the urge to write in it. It wasn't even a magical urge, it was just Dream being Dream, wanting to touch something even though it could be potentially dangerous.

" _So are we just going to ignore what Dream did?_ "

"Dream doesn't have to say _shit_ until he learns to calm the fuck down."

"I'm easily calm, the heck do you mean?" Dream glanced over to Wilbur, "I only get heated when you're fighting. You want an apology, fine. I'm really, _really,_ sorry. I shouldnt have done that. I was stupid."

Schlatt stared at Dream, brows furrowed before he grinned at Wilbur. "You're _babying_ him!"

Wilbur sputtered in response, eyes wide. "NO I'M NOT! I-I BULLY HIM DAILY!!!"

"Aww, Wilby's _babying_ mwe!~" Dream pressed his hands to the sides of his head, speaking in a mockingly cute tone, "Wilby!!!~ I'm _hungyyyyy!~_ Wilby!~ I want a _tOOYYYY!!!~_ "

"I genuinely just hate this place," Wilbur said and a smile slowly crawled onto his face, "Y-you're all just terrible, honestly! Fucking stupid, fucking... uh... _dumb?_ Uh, fuckingggg... hmm?..."

"Can't think of an insult, Big Guy?" Schlatt leaned on the other's shoulder.

"No..." Wilbur responded, "but! Seeing as we're finally on good terms, I'm _assuming_ I can tell you all what we got in the mail!"

"Oh?"

"Party invite. It's one of _those,_ " Wilbur did air-quotes, "y'know?"

" _Really?_ " Schlatt groaned, "When?"

"Next week, plenty of time to get physically ready!" Wilbur beamed, " _But, not enough time to mentally prepare..._ "

"They're so _BORRRINGGG!_ " Dream whined, throwing himself back on the couch. He hit the back of his head on the armrest and shouted before sitting back up.

Schlatt and Wilbur immediately lost it in response, laughing at the other man loudly.

"You two are so mean to me!"

"I-I'M _SORRY!-_ "

"Not an _ounce_ of sympathy!?" Dream gasped sarcastically.

" _No!-_ "

"L-let's just- _Pfft-_ l-let's start planning our outfits!-" Wilbur said through his laughter.

Thank _God,_ an excuse to forget about the book for a bit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to give y'all a double upload, even if these are short more "filler"ish chapters! Mostly because the next few chapters are probably gonna take a while!
> 
> I haven't really spoken about this, but! I wanna thank you all for the kudos, and the amount of hits this fic has gotten is absolutely WILD! I also wanna thank you guys for the comments, they really help me get the motivation to continue this story and I love seeing your reactions!
> 
> Take care of yourselves!!!


	13. Update/Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate making these because I know it ruins the flow, but I feel it's important and I believe you all deserve to know why the new chapters are taking so long.

Hi! It's me! It's been a while, hasn't it?

(I wanna apologize in advance if there's typos in this, btw.)

Anyways. To the Important Information!

First of all, I want to apologize for the lack of updates to this fic. I promise you that I want to work on this till it's done, not just for myself, but also for you guys.

But! I want to explain why I haven't been giving updates as quickly as I used to. I wanna keep this short, because I know how annoying non-story chapters can be in fics.

First off, I had a bit of a burnout. Not a huge one, but I needed to take a little break from large fics like this and basically writing in general for my own mental health, I hope you understand.

The second reason is a bit... odd? I dunno how to explain it, but basically I'm trying a different writing style? I'm making more notes for the next chapters and I'm doing multiple drafts, etc, etc, which I've never done before. I'm aware that there will probably be an odd, or maybe even confusing quality jump due to this, but I've found it quite fun to try this new style and I see improvement already!

Unfortunately, with this new style it also means that chapters take much longer to write, and I understand that it must be annoying, even frustrating, to wait so long for new chapters. I find myself occasionally getting annoyed by it too. But I want the best for this fic. Even if it means taking a long time to make new chapters.

I hope you understand why it's taking so long, and I apologize for making an "update" chapter, because I know they're annoying.

I truly do hope that when the next chapters come out, they'll be enjoyable for you all!

Remember, take care of yourselves and have a good day!


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